


apocalypse blues

by springsoldier (ladydaredevil)



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Good Omens Fusion, Crack, Friendship, Gen, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-16 07:57:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4617501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydaredevil/pseuds/springsoldier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt gets kidnapped by cultists. It's the least surprising thing to happen that night. </p>
<p>(for the "Foggy is the Antichrist" prompt over at the kinkmeme)</p>
            </blockquote>





	apocalypse blues

_Blasphemer_ , someone who's had a tuna sandwich for lunch is hissing in his ear as Matt comes to, disoriented and probably concussed. He stays still and feigns unconsciousness, even though the back of the metal chair is digging into his spine. He’s had worse. The man keeps ranting for a while and then walks off purposefully, probably considering Matt appropriately chastised for daring to wear a devil costume and disrespecting the Prince of Darkness. At least that’s what he’d gotten out of it. He’d been hard to follow. 

Matt's a little ashamed that these idiots have managed to take him down, but what they lack in skill, they definitely make up for in numbers and enthusiasm. And he hadn't been able to bring himself to be too rough with them, because for all they keep talking about bringing about the apocalypse, they haven't really... done anything except lurking around at night in questionable outfits. Matt's not really in any position to judge.  
Not until they kidnapped him, that is. Matt's feeling a little less merciful now. Unfortunately they're not as bad at tying knots as they are at hand to hand combat, so he has to bide his time until one of them inevitably does something dumb. 

He listens intently to the hushed conversations around him, trying to figure out his situation, and whether or not he should worry. The room he’s held in is definitely a basement of some kind, and there’s strong incense that is making his nose itch and won’t help his headache any. 

There’s someone chanting in atrocious Latin in the other room and a dozen or so of the robed weirdoes standing around – probably guarding him – and maybe twenty others rushing about lighting candles and – burning herbs, maybe? It’s hard to tell, all the strong scents blurring together.  
Some kind of ceremony, then? What do they need Matt for?

Oh.

_Of course._

Human sacrifice. 

He can’t help the groan when he figures it out, blowing his cover in the process, judging by the excited whispers breaking out among the guards. 

The realisation is somewhat worrying. Not because he thinks they’ll manage to summon anything – Matt does believe in the Devil, but not that he does house calls – but they might still kill him, and that would be an incredibly ridiculous way to die. 

He doesn’t have much time to dwell on it though, because apparently the preparations are complete and two of his guard drag him into the next room, chair included, without bothering to untie him at all.

He’s still feeling woozy and this – this isn’t good at all. 

He’s thrown in the centre of the room, and he can smell spray paint, so this must be a pentagram of some sort… The chanting starts up again, all of them joining in this time, and then – then it gets truly eerie. 

There’s -- there’s a kind of – well, darkness, Matt has no other word for it, and it doesn’t make sense, the world is always dark to him, more or less, but this is something else, something heavy and oppressive and it feels a little like drowning -- 

It’s also disturbingly familiar, though he can’t place it. 

The chanting picks up, their leader – the one with the tuna breath – approaching Matt with a knife, and that really can’t be how he dies, can it? And Matt usually doesn’t pray for help but in this case he feels it’s kind of justified. 

It’s hard to tell what’s happening, but the darkness starts pulsing like a living thing, and the cultists’ heartbeats go insane with religious fervour or terror or maybe a mix of both, and Matt tries to keep his breathing steady, to stay calm, but he can’t help the sick feeling growing in his chest.

Then his radar sense picks up some kind of shift in the atmosphere as something appears in the room and Matt wonders if he could convince them to untie him, if only so he can put up some kind of fight against whatever monstrosity is going to kill him. 

…Wait. 

Matt knows that heartbeat. 

“What the fuck?”

_Foggy?_

It has to be some kind of trick, is his first thought. To mess with him, make him die at the hand of someone he loves. Except it doesn’t acknowledge him at all, too busy letting out an impressive string of curses.  
The cultists all fall to their knees, weeping and holding each other and trying to kiss Foggy’s shoes. Foggy seems annoyed but unsurprised by the attention. 

“Aw, not you guys again! I told you I didn’t want anything to do with that Apocalypse thing”

Again? Matt remembers then, Foggy coming to work a little shaken but mostly amused, and telling him about the group of strangers trying to convert him to some kind of weird cult. It had been why he’d started keeping a closer eye on them. Foggy had apparently forgotten to explain what they'd wanted with him, exactly. 

“Master! The ceremony is complete! Your powers are unlocked!” The leader sounds practically giddy, knife still to Matt’s neck. 

Matt knows exactly when Foggy notices he's there, because his heart skips a few beats. 

“Hang on a second, is that Daredevil?” The darkness turns suffocating, as surprise and shock turn to wrath. Of all people Matt would’ve suspected of being the Antichrist, his best friend might’ve been the very last, but he’s starting to see it now. Metaphorically speaking. 

“We – We were going to sacrifice the blasphemer in your honour.”

“The what? That’s my friend! _Let him go. Right. Now._ ”

Matt’s heard Foggy angry before, but never quite like this. The leader is groveling at his feet, and Matt can’t help a little vindictive satisfaction. Someone steps forward to cut Matt loose and he stumbles to his feet, unsure what to make of the situation. 

“We didn’t know he was also one of your humble servants, Master –“

“Sure, let’s go with that.”

“It was to ease your transition into your path—“ 

"You thought human sacrifice would be a nice present?! Ever heard of flowers? A cake?"

The leader recoils, obviously startled.

“But –“ He starts, but Foggy isn’t focused on him anymore. He rushes to Matt’s side, propping him up against the nearest wall when he can’t quite find his footing. Maybe he did get hit in the head harder than he’d thought. 

“ Matt? Are you okay? What did you go and get yourself kidnapped by these crazies for?!”

“Er. I’m fine. Considering. But this is – Foggy, are you the Antichrist?” 

“Of course not. That would be absurd.” His heartbeat stutters. 

“You are.”

“No.”

The darkness squirms as if in embarrassment, familiar because it’s actually coming from Foggy, and that is an incredibly disturbing thought. 

“Can you quit it with the demonic – thing?” Matt chokes out. 

“Shit! Sorry, I can’t control this damn thing.” Foggy says, but the feeling recedes like a wave, and Matt starts breathing again. 

“Prince of Darkness?” The leader tries again, a little tentative. Foggy seems to remember their audience then, which has quieted down and is mostly gawking at them, from what Matt can make out. Things are evidently not going according to plan for them. 

“What?”

“… The Apocalypse? I don’t meant to be discourteous, but there’s a schedule, you see, and –“

“I told you we weren’t doing that already.”

“Yes, to test our devotion to the cause, but –“ 

“No, no, no, there’s no test here. You say I’m supposed to be in charge? This is me being in charge: Not. Happening.” 

The man is sweating nervously, and appears to change tactics. 

“There was a slight – mishap when you were born, my Lord, and I realise you haven’t had the upbringing you were meant to have, but I have no doubt that if you’d been in the care of your mother we wouldn’t be having these difficulties, but I trust that your true nature will prevail and –“ 

“No way, buddy. And you realise I have absolutely nothing to gain in destroying the world? Why would I want to do that? I like the world!” 

“But your fate—“

“One: I don’t believe in that. Religion is more Matt’s thing. He’s probably not in the mood for theological conversation though. Two: Assuming there is no such thing as free will and that I have no say in this whatsoever, then I was always going to be against it and that must mean your Apocalypse was never meant to happen anyway.”

The cultists start whispering among themselves, troubled. Matt smiles and leans back. He could probably carve them a way out through the masses, but Foggy’s got this one. He’s forgotten his fears and gone into lawyer mode. 

“Don’t any of you have friends? Families? Celebrity crushes? What would your parents think, if they knew you were here? What are you hoping to achieve? You want pain and misery? Look around, you’ll find plenty of it. Really look, and ask yourself why you’d want to spread it around. 

You’ve had a hard life and you want the world to pay for what’s happened to you? That doesn’t make you special, but it does make you a selfish asshole. There’s overkill and then there’s destroying billions of lives because your feelings are hurt. 

You think the world is rotten and needs to go? Why on earth would you want to make it worse? There’s no magic reset button, and there shouldn’t be one. The only way you can improve things is by working for it. 

You’re in it for the community and sweet costumes? Join something a little less destructive. Team sports? LARP?

You wanted my attention? You’ve got it. And this is me telling you to get your shit together and find a new hobby.”

The cultists are silent. The leader is the first to recover, and he turns away from Foggy to address the crowd. For a second Matt thinks that it’s over, but when does anything ever work out that easily?

“Our Master has been corrupted! He has been led astray! It is our sacred duty to make him see his path! Get the blasphemer!” 

Matt tenses, readying himself for a fight. He should’ve known they wouldn’t react like sensible people. It turns out he doesn't need to do anything though, because Foggy beats him to it. 

“STOP.” The commanding voice is barely recognisable as his best friend’s, too loud and sharp as a knife. Matt flinches back involuntarily. 

The room is suddenly deathly silent, and it takes only a second for Matt to realise that they’re not just paralysed by fear, they actually can’t move. Because Foggy said so. 

“Wow. That – That actually worked. Freaky.” 

“Useful, though. But what now?”

“I could keep them. I’ve always wanted to have minions.”

“Right.”

“Maybe not. It’d get old fast.”

Foggy’s silent for a while, and Matt can’t help a shiver as his senses pick up on him doing _something_ , the now familiar darkness enveloping the cultists. One by one, they come out of their daze and head out of the basement in a silent, orderly file. 

“What did you do?”

“I, uh. Made them decide to devote their lives to helping the poor? I’m not sure if it’ll stick. We should probably keep an eye on them?” 

The thought of anyone having this much power should by any means be horrifying, but it’s Foggy so Matt just smiles a little. Foggy seems to be worrying enough for the two of them anyway, if the rapid breathing is any indication. 

“Shit, Karen will be wondering where I am, we were at Josie’s and I was just going to the bathroom…” He rummages around for his phone, swearing under his breath. “Shit, what do I tell her, Matt?”

“What, you don’t think ‘sorry, I had to rescue the local vigilante (who happens to be Matt) from crazy Satanists and avert the Apocalypse I was supposed to lead (because I’m the Antichrist)’ would go over well?” 

Foggy snorts.

Matt giggles. 

Then they both lose it, laughing so hard they have to clutch at each other to keep upright. Eventually Foggy gives up and just lies down on the floor. 

“And I thought the Daredevil thing was weird. Our lives are fucked up, Matty.”

“Well, if anyone had to be the Antichrist, I’m glad it’s you.” Matt says sincerely.

They don’t stop laughing for a very long time.


End file.
